Unbirth
by Orange Memories
Summary: Claire's whole life has been an illusion. Will she find reality in Peter? And will she ever truly become a Petrelli? Warning:Erotic scenes and incestuous pairings. Written as a gift fic for Quirkyslayer.


Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or any powers those guys have. I'm not lucky enough.

**A/N: **This story has incestuous themes, so read at your own risk. This was written as a gift!fic for **Quirkyslayer's **one-shot, Becoming Petrelli.

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* * *

****Unbirth**

The sun shines. The early morning rains dew. People walk, move, drive and rush from one part of their daily routine to another. It is like frenzy, a pandemonium on the streets of New York.

But there is an order to it. A certain monotony to it. The people you see yesterday are there again today.

It is just another ordinary day.

**XXXXX**

The car snakes through the treacherous traffic. The chauffeur was slightly unnerved, and has to be careful lest he bumps into another vehicle. But the two women in it were coolly talking, seemingly unperturbed by the world.

"So what shade would you like, Claire? Rich burgundy or maybe deep brown? Deep brown will be nice in my opinion." Angela Petrelli asks her granddaughter.

Claire goes through the colour-catalogue, and finally being overwhelmed by the multitude of myriad colours, she gave up.

"You choose."

Claire fingers her long, gilded tresses and combed them with her fingers. She has always been the perfect all-American blonde. But how will she look after today?

Claire doesn't know, but it is a path she must take. The second step in becoming a Petrelli. She has always been Claire Bennet, but today she will emerge as something different.

She will be a Petrelli.

Her grandmother's voice interrupts the turning train of thoughts. "We are here."

**XXXXX**

Claire sits in the chair quietly, while her grandmother speaks to the hairstylist. She looks like an unsophisticated, podgy teenager among the sea of beautiful and ugly rich women, each vying to be better than the other.

She feels alone in this crazy, sophisticated world. She is lost.

A woman comes and sits in the chair beside her, looking down on her plain attire and even her soiled sneakers.

"Are you a model?"

Earlier, Claire would have been astounded and taken it as a compliment, but nothing is a surprise anymore.

"No."

The woman again looks disdainfully at her. "I guessed so; you're too short to be one. You must be one of the new people working here." Claire hears her whisper, "What kind of people do they hire?"

She feels a warm hand on her shoulder. "She's with me, Mrs. Romano. Any objection to that?" Mrs. Romano sheepishly mumbles an unapologetic sorry and walks away.

Claire sighs. She is still Claire Bennet, and not a Petrelli.

**XXXXX**

Claire almost screams when the hairdresser snips away a good length of the hair she had spent years tending and growing. "It's a pity to cut it off", the hairstylist bemoans, "but that's what I've been asked to do."

_No._ Claire Bennet's heart screams. _Not the hair._

But a cool, calm voice speaks to her. _Let_ _it go. It's not you anymore. You were never Claire Bennet. Let it go._

"That's the length I want," Angela says when the sharp strands fall to the nape of Claire's neck. "You can start colouring now."

"What shade?" He asks. "Plain black or deep brown. Somewhat like mine."

For the last time, Claire looks at the bright sungold hair that belongs to her biological mother and mother. Her mother would always say how pretty her hair was. But she is a distant memory, hidden in the vestiges of Claire's past.

Angela's genuine smile reassures her, saying, "Don't worry, child. It's for your own good."

Claire nods and shuts her eyes tight. To anyone, their life is more important than a few paltry strands of hair.

**XXXXX**

Claire looks in the full length mirror at the shop. She looks like sleek and elegant in the staid skirt, high heels and the pearls. Like a rich preppie. Like a Petrelli.

But not a cheerleader from Odessa, jumping and dancing, screaming their way into the hearts of people.

She walks out and joins her grandmother, who nods in approval. "You look beautiful, Claire. Like a proper young lady." Claire smiles back. At least she can hide her dampening spirits for the grandmother.

They get into the car and drive away.

**XXXXX**

The drive back is unusually silent. Claire cannot stop looking into the small mirror in front of her. Her sungold hair has become nightblack. And her eyes. Her grandmother had suggested that she wear contacts to hide her eyes.

_Your eyes are the key to you. Changing the colour will save you from that lunatic._

Now, Claire's eyes are blue-black, a stronger shade that the earlier greenleaf tint.

But they make her into a Petrelli. And that's all she wants.

Angela Petrelli pets her granddaughter. She knows, feels the pain that this child has gone through. She knows that she is also one of the reasons for Claire's situation. But she steels herself. "Claire, there is another important decision I have made for you."

"I know. Another way to save my life." Claire is still distraught and looks for herself again in the damned mirror, but a stranger looks back. _Who isn't Claire._

"I've decided that you shall have a new identity. You will be Maya Rosetti."

Claire stops breathing for a minute.

"Rosetti was my maiden name. I shall say that you are the granddaughter of one of my sisters. You are orphaned and we are adopting you. And soon you will be a Petrelli."

Claire started to protest, but was silenced by a severe look. "We have arranged for everything. And please realize that it's not only your life at stake, but the entire family's. You have two younger siblings, let me remind you."

_But I'm Claire Bennet, not some stupid Maya. I'm a schoolgirl from Texas, not some rich bitch. I miss my family, my mother, my brother, Zach, and my father too. I want to go back._

"You have anything to say, Claire?" Angela Petrelli asked, " Yes," she answered brokenly, " What does the name mean?"

"It's an old Sanskrit word meaning illusion."

Claire now knew who the girl in the mirror was. She was Maya, an illusion to fool death.

**XXXXX**

It is late in the night, and Claire is still wide awake. She is tired, and her body aches, but the pain of her heart numbs it. There is nothing that remains of Claire Bennet.

She is just Claire now. With black hair, and deep blue eyes.

_This is the next step to becoming a Petrelli and saving your life._

But she is still not a Petrelli. For now she is just an illusion. Who has no existence in reality, and as Angela said an orphan.

The hourglass near the bed stand steadily counts time, with each grain of sand dropping, dropping, dropping… and mounting itself into a cone. But then a single grain falls, and the cone crashes, collapses into another mass of sand. Just like Claire's life, crashing and fading all around her.

Claire wonders what the hourglass means.

Claire slips onto the floor, confused and trembling. She feels like a lunatic, who breathes insanity, split into two unwilling halves from one hole. She hallucinates between two worlds, shifting from one to another and touching the nadir, then standing at the zenith.

But the thing that hurts her most, that scares the most is that Peter knows Claire and only Claire. And now, she will have to share with the woman in the mirror.

_She wishes that there was never any Maya between them._

She hears the sound of their laughter, and their moans as Peter laves every inch of her body with his tongue. She finds them as one, screaming in dark, incestuous passion till they finally find release in each other.

_But Peter loves Claire. Doesn't he?_

She flings the hourglass away and it shatters into a million shards. She wishes that she could be one of the lucky ones who could walk among the shards and never recover from the pain.

But she isn't meant to be lucky.

Disregarding her muted sobs, the clock strikes twelve. Witching hour has begun.

**XXXXX**

Claire opens her eyes as she hears the clarion call of midnight ring in her ears.

She wonders what this night will bring with it. She wishes it will bring him to her. Her Peter.

Peter. Her thoughts inadvertently turn to him, every time she takes his name. He is in her mind, her soul, every pore of her being.

_You or Maya Rosetti? Who will Peter see today, Claire?_

Claire ignores the voice and thinks about him. They are bonded to each other by the blood running in their veins, yet there is something deeper. They are bonded from the very dark, painless depths of their soul. He is her hero, not her uncle.

And she is happy to be his niece, for it brings them closer, to each other and to life.

_As long as I have Peter by my side, I will always be strong._

But where is he? In these dark times, she fears for him, and what will happen to him. She doesn't like him being away, so late in the night. She knows that he is fighting to save their lives, but she needs him today, desperately.

_But she is not afraid of losing him forever. Wherever Peter goes, she will follow. _

This time she doesn't worry about Maya.

**XXXXX**

"Claire?" Peter knocks on her door impatiently. It has been a long day for him and he needs to see her. To feel her against his skin. To feel her power caressing his body and giving him strength. To breathe with her, and not without her.

A strange apparition opens the door. Instead of Claire, he sees a pretty brunette, with dark eyes. His Claire?

She runs into his arms and holds him tight. She breathes against him, holding him desperately. Peter can feel the need to be with her rising.

"Peter, I was so worried about you. Where have you been? And what have you been doing?" Peter takes some time to admire her. She looks like family now. One of **them.** She has finally become Petrelli.

"You look nice, Claire. Though at first, I was a bit startled." She grips him tightly again and this time, he feels moisture on his T-shirt. She has been crying.

"What happened? Why are you so upset?"

Claire looks into his eyes and asks him. "Peter, do you still see me?"

Peter is surprised by the pained look, and he doesn't know what to say. He finds a different, new person standing in front of him. But her voice is the same, and the emotions are far from superficial. _She is still Claire to him._

"You look different but I still see you." Claire is surprised by his reply. What does he mean? How does he feel on seeing her?

"Maya Rosetti, that is my new name. A new identity, created to protect me."

"I know that. I suggested it in the first place. He is still out there, Claire and he has the list. He will know whom to hunt down and kill. Claire Bennet is on his list, but not Maya. I saw what he did to Mohinder, and I foresaw my own death in Sylar's eyes. I don't want the same to happen to you."

"So what does this mean?" Claire says furiously. "Do I forget my past and what happened? Do I forget about Claire Bennet? Shall I forget the special relationship between us to make way for this girl who is not me?"

Peter tries to stop her. He wants to comfort her, but he knows that she needs to vent her bottled-up feelings.

"Whenever I look into the mirror, I see her, not me. But I don't know who this Maya is! I don't care! And what if you don't see me anymore? What if you see her?"

_So that is why. She needs me, more than I ever thought. She loves me, doesn't she? And she doesn't want her alter ego to come in between….._

Claire's rant continued. Her voice was choking, tears glistening in her eyes. "What if your whole life was a lie, Peter? What if the people you knew and loved were just masks?

Do you know what I felt today? Everyone says I've got to become someone else. Claire has to die, and forget the pain. Isn't it so?"

This time Peter lifts her face up to his and kisses her. It is a deep, gentle kiss. How long he kissed her he didn't know, but he feels her body sink into his arms and her limp arms wrapping him tightly.

_I'm here, Claire. I'm your family._

Peter broke the kiss to see that the tears had slowed and her cheeks had become pink. He hugs her tightly and whispers. "You are confused and scared, dear. What you have gone through, I can never understand. Your whole life was a lie. But we're not asking Claire to die. You just have to be unborn, and go back a few paces. You do not need to become another person. You are my Claire."

Claire looks up fearfully into his eyes. She sees so much love there.

"I know what is scaring you. You think that the people you love will not love you any more. You think that your different looks will make you a different person. I couldn't care less if you were slim or fat, ugly or beautiful, tall or short. I am still your family and care for you, Claire. I don't see Claire Bennet, the Cheerleader or Maya. But I see a strong girl, who has fought against the odds and has survived many trials and tribulations. I see a girl beautiful from the inside."

Claire's heart breaks at his beautiful words. She wants to be united with him again. She doesn't care if it's wrong anymore. They have to be together forever, and only in the night can they come alive. She whispers to him, "Please, Peter, and take me again tonight."

He feels her need and slowly wraps his tongue around hers. This isn't a gentle kiss, but a fiery, passionate and needy one. Their tongues duel furiously, and they fall into the bed, in each others arms.

_It is time._

**XXXXX**

Claire slips out of her clothes as quickly as she can. She needs to be with him. _Now._

Tentatively, she turns around. Peter proffers her his hand, welcoming her into the warmth of his arms. She accepts it shyly, and moans as he holds her tight in his embrace.

They have nothing to say anymore. Just to touch and feel skin against skin.

Peter's tongue wraps around Claire's soft nipple. He can feel her arch under him, giving in to him. Claire moans, enjoying the exquisite sensations induced by his ministrations.

His hands flow down her body, touching her at the most sensitive spots. Then finally his hands slip down to her soft, wet core.

He rubs her slowly there, and flicks his calloused thumb across her soft flesh. He looks at her face, enjoying the pure ecstasy. She draws his hand across his face, and lays it on his smooth chest. She smiles seductively and moves his hand down _there._ Peter moans as her hand softly circles him, and almost dies of pleasure, when she strokes him.

She knows how to arouse him, and awaken every sensation in her body. _She is his, after all._

"My, aren't we getting bold?" Peter asks in a husky voice as she continues teasing him.

"Shhh. Just relax and enjoy what I'm doing to you." She laughs huskily, and the sound of her laughter is a welcome sound to his ears.

_He cannot stand even a single teardrop from her eyes._

"No, _you_ relax today." And before she can say anything, Peter's mouth takes Claire by surprise. His tongue wraps around her sensitive mound, and pleasures it in a slow, erotic rhythm. He tastes her delicious sweetness and softly kisses her there.

He can breathe her taste now. He revels in it, feeling alive. There is no wrong in this pure emotion. Only right.

Claire was being pushed to the heights of passion by Peter, and she could hardly be still. Every part of her body needs his attention. She wants to feel the zenith of this dark love.

His tongue delves inside her again, and this time, she knows she was close to her release. "Peter," she takes his name in coital bliss as she sees bright sparks in front of her eyes. His relentless tongue dips inside one more time as she screams his name and comes.

The orgasm has taken every drop of her energy, and she is drained. She feels him rise and he falls into her arms. He wipes the sweat away from her forehead and kisses her gently.

They are breathing hard, tense yet relaxed in the afterglow of their lovemaking. He slips his tongue into her mouth again. She can feel the taste of his tongue and her own taste too.

Finally, she feels at peace with herself. She is at home with him.

"So are you convinced, Claire? That I care for you. That I live for you. And that I love Claire, and not Maya whats-her-name."

Claire giggles and kisses him again. "You know, I think I've already completed Step-II of becoming a Petrelli."

He looks into her eyes. He searches in them and finds himself there.

"_Yes, you have finally become one of us. A Petrelli. Welcome to the family."_

**Finis **


End file.
